


Anything for Sammy

by bellaaanovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: De-Aged Sam Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaaanovak/pseuds/bellaaanovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming from a prompt from Tumblr user whatareyouseven (If you did a de-aged Sammy with an adult mind, totally angry about being a kid but having to give in to his body’s needs (ie sleeping more and eating less and stuff) and Dean having the time of his life taking care of him I would probably cry forever), it's pretty much what it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything for Sammy

 The worst thing about being nine was not being able to drink whiskey like a man should. Only, Sam wasn’t a man. At least, in his head he was. He was the same twenty-five year old he’s always been besides being four feet tall.

Waking up two feet shorter than he was the day before was… proven difficult. For some stupid reason, a witch put a curse on them, and for another stupid reason, Dean was  _loving_ it.

 

For the past two days, Dean has just been babying him and treating him like, well, a child. He was definitely not a child, even though he looked exactly like the photo Dean carried around in his wallet –  _“Why are you carrying that?” “I don’t know, why not?”_

“Okay, we seriously need to figure out what to do here. That witch could be  _anywhere_ , Dean. We already cleared out the entire motel room and there are no hex bags. I’m freaking out, man!” Sam yelled on his third day of being nine.

“Dude, I’m sorry, I just literally can’t take you seriously looking like that.” Dean snickered and drank his beer tauntingly. “I mean, you sound like baby you did. Does. Whatever.”

“Did baby me ever tell you to shut the fuck up? Because shut the fuck up.” Sam growled, and Dean  _lost it._ He set down his beer on the table and began laughing hysterically. Sam had it. He took the half-full beer bottle from the table and downed it all.

“Sammy, don’t do that. Sam!”

It was fantastic until he hauled ass to the bathroom and threw up every last drop.

—

For the next few hours, Dean had been tending to Sam in bed. He brought him snacks, juice boxes, water bottles, some books, and anything else he figured he would need. God, he never thought he’d see Sam like that again. So innocent even with all the horrifying memories in his developing brain. At first, he was tempted to buy Sam chips and a couple of burgers or one of those gigantor salads – but all of that would be too much for his not-so-gigantor body. He bought those vegetable sticks, lunchables, Ritz crackers and cheese, and diced fruit salad. Sammy’s been sleeping more than ever these past few days.

Dean did love taking care of Sam. After all, he practically raised the kid. He brought him from his Stanford lifestyle back into the world of hunting, practically raising him all over again and then some. A part of him wished they would never find the witch, and he would get to watch Sam grow up again. Those stupid bangs forming, his dimples getting deeper, his lips fuller – only his eyes wouldn’t have the same innocence and fear they did so many years ago. They would be the eyes of someone who has died, and watched so many deaths – the death of his own brother, even.

That was the one thing keeping Dean going on his mini-mission to find the witch. He wasn’t going to let Sam grow up in pain.

“Thanks for doing this, Dean. I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but…” Sam started. It was so adorable hearing mini-Sam cuss and apologize like that.

“Don’t cuss. Kiss your brother with that mouth?” Dean smirked and Sam turned red like a  _tomato_  – oh, hormones, what are you gonna do? He realized Sam knew Dean meant to say that, and Dean got a little sad and freaked out about wanting to kiss him.

This was his little  _brother_. Well, he was always his little brother, always  _will be_ – Damn, what the hell? Dean leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against the untainted, tiny, pink lips on his brother’s mouth. And he kissed back.

“L-like I said. Thanks,” Sam flipped his hair.

“Hey, let’s cut your hair before it gets longer than Jesus’, yeah?” Dean stated before running up to go find scissors. Oh, yeah. This could be fun. “I’m bigger than you, don’t you try runnin’, Sammy.” Dean heard the cock of a gun and flipped around. There was baby Sam, holding his own gun like a professional.

“I may be four feet tall, but I still know how to use one of these.” Sam said. He wasn’t serious, considering he was still blushing like a teenage girl.

“Please, Sam. You look like you’re gonna faint. You’re  _adorable_.” Sam grumbled and threw the gun down on the mattress, holding his hands up in defense.

“Can you uh… I’m out of those juice boxes…”

Dean walked over to Sam and pulled him into a hug, ruffling his hair.

“Sure thing. Anything for my Sammy.”


End file.
